Reason for Being
by Anya Ishikawa
Summary: In which life proved she's truly a backstabbing bitch but, Sakura decided she'd forgive her just this once.


**Summary** : In which life proved she's truly a backstabbing bitch but, Sakura decided she'd forgive her just this once.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing within this story but the plot.

...

I've always wondered how I'd act if I were genuinely in love.

Would I look at him the way the books would describe? Would I act all flustered and stutter whenever he would look at me in the eye?

Or are the books merely an impressionistic version of real life?

I...

I've never fallen into love before.

Would I be disappointed if I didn't feel the sparks?

Would my heart even skip a beat if he smiles?

I would never say never. I know more than to believe something would never happen to me. Life's a backstabbing bitch, it's always there to prove you wrong.

I just..

I've been infatuated before?

I've liked some guy's feature and have admire someone's attitude.

I'd let them conquer my mind, only to find it empty a few weeks later.

Somehow, I'm incapable of liking someone for long.

And this mere fact scares me.

What if the person destined for me enters my life and I'm incapable of loving him?

I could only hope that if that time comes, his love would be enough for the both of us.

But, I don't trust that life would ever be good to me.

I hate her after all, so I'd assume she'd feel the same.

My life would probably end up tragically or alone.

But I could still hope, right?

That someone would be kind enough to love every part of me; that he'd be willing to cross any rivers just to be with me.

That...

That someone would be willing to fix me.

My life have been a mess lately.

I watched my mother die before my eyes, her entire being frail from sickness.

She was everything to me.

 _My hope_

 _My dreams_

 _My home_

Yet she was taken from me despite how many times I prayed.

But, I'm not hopeless nor am I suicidal.

Somehow, my mother's unconditional love was enough for me to value life even at it's ugliest moment.

I want to be angry.

I'd like to curse God and ask **"why?"**

Then again, she taught me everything has a meaning.

And I hate my mind for knowing the reason.

She was suffering.

And I, I was just too selfish to accept her cries of defeat.

I wouldn't say I was hopeful.

I knew the time would come that she would have to go.

To be honest, I was tired too.

But I was selfish while God understood.

So he took her, to spare her the burden of further seeing the people around her restless, and I...

I hate myself for knowing.

Now, I have this void within me that's desperate for it to be filled.

And somehow, I'm searching for someone to fill it.

Only for me to do the opposite.

He came a few years after my mother died.

Riding the usual train to school, I saw him brooding at a corner.

His hair was dark and silky, prompting me to doubt whether they were natural, but scoffed at how much of a hypocrite I was.

My hair's pink and it's a 100% natural.

Standing by the center of the train as I grab for one of the handles, I continued to watch him sulk.

I didn't feel anything, just curious as I observe.

He had this aura that spoke he had just been to hell and back.

A few moments later, his coal colored eyes stared back.

I could only gawk at how beautiful he was.

I was embarrassed for a moment, knowing how indecent it was to stare, before the familiar feeling of indifference crept.

Nodding, I glanced at the older woman beside me before meeting his gaze once more.

Frowning, he stood up and offered the seat.

We stood side by side, my elbow and his arm bumping from the movement of the train.

And though my heart didn't skip a beat, I felt it pump for the very first time.

...

I saw him again, two years later after our first meeting.

My good memory have always been something I've been proud about.

After all, it was one of the qualifying traits needed in my profession.

I hated my mother's doctors when she was ill.

They were conniving and uncaring and I swore never to be like them.

In spite of my view, I continue to pursue medicine.

At least one more doctor would be added to those who truly care compared to the dozens who don't.

Seated at the usual counter beside the glass wall of the coffee shop I frequented, I saw him.

His hair and eyes the same as I remember, even his 'Don't annoy me or else' presence didn't change.

I frowned.

He's full of contradictions, such a dark yet beautiful creation.

Glancing back at the medical text within my hands, I forced myself to tune his presence out.

 _As if he'd recognize me_ , I chanted to myself.

Trapped within my own little world, I failed to feel the presence that sat on the chair beside me.

The jasmine milk tea in my grasp was halfway finished when it was yanked away from my grasp.

I turned to glare at the criminal when my eyes were met with midnight dark orbs.

He smirked, placing my drink on the counter.

"Don't you think it's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you?"

His tone was smooth and deep.

I grimaced, straightening my back to cover the chills running down my spine.

"I don't know you." I spat but keeping my volume low.

He grunted, muttering an inaudible sound under his breath.

I silently reprimanded myself for being rude.

An awkward silence enveloped between us but neither moved.

Suffocating, I cleared my throat.

"Sorry, that was rude."

Rubbing my left hand on my forgotten book for comfort, I fidgeted.

"Sasuke."

"Huh?"

"My Name's Uchiha, Sasuke."

...

Three years later, I became Uchiha, Sakura.

...

My mother once said that she feared of me being in love.

She said, like her, I was the type to do everything for the person I love.

I would scoff back then, even after she died I did not believe that I was capable to being the one to give love.

But what she said..

Was true.

I was willing to give Sasuke everything.

And give everything did I do.

Only, what he needed was the very same thing that I did.

Sasuke did not ask me to give up work, he did not ask me to go away with him and leave my friends and family behind, not even my dream.

He allowed me space that sometimes I wonder if I was married in the first place.

There were no sparks.

There were no skipping of hearts.

He never even bought me flowers or gave me chocolates.

On our first anniversary, he was working abroad while I was fixing someone's colon.

He was more broken than me but somehow, being with him gave me the ability to love.

Whenever he went home, although tired myself, I'd prepare his food.

When he's agitated, I'd hold his hand and whisper comforting things than even I doubt at but would continue to hope for the both of us.

When he's angry, the stubborn me just disappears and would just bend to his will.

He wasn't this man that I dreamed for.

He wasn't the man that I prayed for.

In our relationship, I was the one who loves enough for the both of us.

He just brought out something in me that I was praying I'd see in someone else.

And yet, as I lay on a white bed, my arms curled around a tiny figure all I could do is smile.

Beside me was my husband, his right arm wrapped around my shoulders while the other was caressing the cheek of the child within my arms.

In the end, I wouldn't complain.

Cause life's a bitch and she did prove me wrong.

She slapped me hard on the face and showed me that I didn't need to be loved.

My mother filled me with that.

Then, in his own way, Sasuke did too.

After all, he was the first one to give.

Now I understand.

What I needed was to love.

To give this one thing that every person in the world is searching for.

Now, I could only hope that I fill the child within my arms the same love my mother gave.

So that when I'm gone, she wouldn't go astray.

So that when I leave, I know she wouldn't be desperate to search for that one thing that no one could truly find...

Only give.


End file.
